


Year One

by rinasova



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Childhood, Children, Cute Kids, Developing Friendships, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Freedom, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Multi, Office, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Orphanage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Outer Space, Prompt Fill, Random & Short, Randomness, Science Fiction, Spaceships, Tags Are Fun, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-09-27 07:28:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 7,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20403940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinasova/pseuds/rinasova
Summary: The premise is quite simple, everyday I write a story based on a random set of words, which I get flipping through a dictionary or on a random words generator website. /if you'd like to suggest your set of words – you are very welcome/.Everty chapter is a new story with completely new original characters and events. The notes before every chapter offer a short list of something happening inside. The name of every chapter — the set of random words it was inspired by.





	1. / cultural copper /

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> orphanage; doctor; nuns/caretackers; kids; peculiar children; 19th century

**/cultural copper/**

The avoidance of other children that she expressed was the most peculiar trait he had ever managed to witness in a child. "Brass babies" she always called them with that expression of boredom and disgust. 

She hardly showed any preference or kindness as it was. The adults didn't appear interesting to her enough to give them any kind of a name or put them into a specific category. He thought, it was probably even more insulting. Any pets were just a part of the background of her life. Toys scattered around in the playroom never touched her mind, too simplistic and childish. Sha had one special obsession, her only friend. A small copper teaspoon. That's why Dr. Somur loved her so much. Why she always managed to captivate his attention for hours on end. 

She hardly shared any preference or kindness as it was. Adults to her didn't appear interesting enough to give them any kind of name or to put them into a specific category of her liking. The farm animals were just a part of the background of her life. Toys didn't even touch her mind. She had only one special obsession, her only point of focus, her only friend as unusual as it was. A small copper teaspoon. This tiny little object she never let out of her sight, preferring to hide it in the safety of her little hands. That's why Dr. Somur loved her so much. 

The children's home was an old place with as many kids as it could handle and as many staff members, who had hearts kind enough to stay there for food and shelter alone, tending to the giant house, full of young souls and to the grounds full with fruit trees and cattle. The house wasn't isolated but the villagers saw this place filled with shadows as a creature from the haunting legends and always chose to stay away, so the residents, young and not, rarely saw any new faces.

So the day when Dr. Somur came for a permanent stay from Dublin of all places, everyone was thrilled and filled with delight equal to that of a Christmas morning.

The doctor was such a beautiful sight, from his lovely black suit and long expensive coat to the fascinating complicated names that kids took to favor to scream running around the long hallways. Everyone wanted to be his friend, to ask him about the big city and people, and why the sky always rains in this hour. Except for one interesting girl.

The caretakers, old ladies, who introduced themselves as Mary and Agnes, greeted him and walked him to his new room at the first floor with dozens of noisy nosy children pretending to be his tail, whispering about how beautiful of a gentleman he was until Doctor became too overwhelmed with the attention. And all of them were ushered away, and Mary invited him to join everybody for supper in two hours sharp, and he was finally left to his own devices. Dr. Somur let out a relieved sigh in the silence of his new bedroom, letting his suitcase drop to the floor, still feeling dizzy from a long trip, and only then discovered that he had company. 

A little girl stood beside the window near the narrow bed, she was dressed just like all the girls who met him just now. She didn't move as if she hadn't heard him at all. Or didn't deem him interesting enough to pay any attention. So he froze at loss and cleared his throat uncertainly, wondering if he could call for Mary to assist him in this matter. 

The little girl turned with rather a blank expression on her gentle round face. 

"Yes," she said, as if unwilling to have a conversation. In her hand, she had a tiny little spoon. "We just came to say goodbye".

"Goodbye?" Dr. Sumer asked, confused. 

The little girl didn't say anything and silently left his room, closing the door behind her. He knew he'd love working here. 

/

The doctor met her again, of course, later at supper when everyone gathered in the dining room, making it spark with laughter and the trembling of the candles. The little girl sat among the other children at the giant table, who cheered upon noticing him at the huge staircase; she remained seated and indifferent, intently focused on a little object she held in her hands. 

"Please, sit, Doctor Somur. We've prepared a true feast to welcome you into our family" said the principal, shaking his hand. He was in his seventies and had a kind smile. 

"I hope I won't disappoint you in my service" he smiled back. 

The feast began. The food was great, the company was even better, and the time flew by. Twilight started knocking on the windowsills with cold darkness, but in the sunny warm dining room no one noticed. Dr. Somur felt happy and full, relaxed and content like he hadn't felt in quite a while. When children finished eating, some of them were sent to help in the kitchen, others to go do a little bit of evening reading in the library. The chairs around the table started emptying, the warm room growing quieter.

Only the little girl didn't move. Principal caught his gaze and smiled. 

"That's our Annette. An exceptionally intelligent child, not so fond of the crowd though. She always stays a tad behind. She will leave shortly" he said. Doctor nodded. 

The principal was right. Annette stood up after a few minutes, picked up her plate with a tiny teaspoon on it and walked to the kitchen. And only two people remained at the table. 

"Should I help in the kitchen as well?" Doctor asked. 

Principal shook his head. 

"No need. Today you may rest after a long trip". 


	2. /iron hearts/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> office; corporations; boss; headache; men and a woman; thunderstorm; late nights; twisty twist

**/iron hearts/**

It is going to rain. James is sure of it. He frowns, looking out of the window in his giant office and absentmindedly rubs at the bridge of his nose. It is the only reason that makes him absolutely certain. His damn nose that pounds and flares with punches of pain traveling all through his skull and into his spine. 

The sky is dark and heavy, hanging low and threatening to swallow the skyscrapers whole, one by one with a mercy equal to an angered shark. His nose responds with another tug of hot pain and James knows that the air outside is thick and filled with electricity, trepidation of a thunderstorm. He sighs, closing his eyes, and just wishes the damn rain would come already and let him be.

The knock at his door knocks him back into the office. Victor is standing behind the glass with an ice pack and a bottle of aspirin. James thinks he might love him, ushering him inside with a tired wave of a hand.

The ice smells of winter mornings, fresh and biting, conquers the pain with no pressure, and as his nose gets numb James feels a smile grow on his face, recognizing a familiar look on Victor's face.

"The deal with The Giants was successful. Even though they were disappointed about your absence" And Victor's voice wills away the fatigue hiding under his eyelids.

"Hm. So Junior did pass the test" James says, leaning back in his sleek expensive chair.

"She sure did" Victor smiles. James smiles back.

  
  


By the time she finally gets back to the office building from the meeting at the other side of the town, Junior is drenched to the bone, shivering in her coat with her hair clinging to her forehead. The lobby swallows her with the warm tongue of the perfectly polished marble floors and cozy silence. The thunder outside rages, she gets into the elevator and presses the top floor. This day feels like a dream nightmare, the best one in the worst way.

Almost all the tables are empty, the common area quiet and dark, and even Victor is already gone. And only the light in the James's office beacons her, the carpet swallows the tick of her hills.

He sits, looking right at the door, and doesn't even pretend not to be waiting. It's truly a matter of jealousy, how he manages to still look fresh and energetic even after the eighteen hours of work.

She smiles, for a second stopping at the threshold, trying to get some blood back into her pale lips. He smiles back, inviting her, all strict lines with the backdrop of the night time cityscape.

"Junior, sorry for your trouble of getting here at this hour, but I need all the details of this deal" Perfect suit and a blank friendly expression.

She nods.

"What did you need to know?".

James looks at her for a few seconds.

"Victor said you doubled the sum they were willing to pay us. How?".

She shrugs, for the first time actually allowing herself to feel proud and pleased with herself.

"Just explained to them that working with us will bring at least ten billion dollars just this year. And even more with the bigger starting capital. It wasn't that hard. Their CEO is a really smart man" she says.

James hums. "Interesting. It was easy for you, and yet we've been struggling to close that deal for half a year now. Impressive." he says. "Trully".

She shrugs again.

"Beginner's luck?".

James lets out a quiet pleasant chuckle.

"Very well, Junior. That'll be all for now" he says, dismissively. And as she turns to leave, slowly walking towards the door with a happy smile, he speaks again.

"And by the way, please clear out your desk by the end of the week and sign all the necessary papers as fast as possible. Victor will help you with it"

She freezes, turning back, confused, the smile gone from her face.

"What?". She remembers Anna telling her about a new office at this floor, but...

James smiles.

"You are fired" he says.


	3. /afternoon dart/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1920; summer; boys; childhood; climbing trees; plans.

/**afternoon dart/**

The sun beamed, making him squint and for a second lose his strong grip at a tree branch, where he was seated, feet dangling down in his new tennis shoes. Bobby gasped, finding his balance again, feeling the sweat on his palm and fingers getting numb and tired from the rough surface. And yet he remained calm, he knew, Jack was coming.

The summer of 1920 was one of the hottest Savannah had ever had a pleasure to experience. And being so high up in an old willow, so close up to the sun when he could not hide in the shadows on the cool pleasant grass, he just wished Jack would hurry. The sweat was rolling down his forehead, getting into his eyes and long red eyelashes, his hair was gross and heavy, tiny drips tickling his neck. But Bobby only kept blinking reluctantly and kept on watching.

And it sure was a spectacle and torture, looking at Girls scouts setting up their camp almost right underneath his tree with their chatter, perfect uniforms, water bottles form a cooler and the one most important treasure he had been thinking about for the whole morning. The cookies.

Bobby felt his stomach spasms at the mere thought of crispy sugary treat, melting on his tongue, followed by excellent lemonade, which Jack made like a champ, it was almost impossible to stay still. He wiped the sweat on the sleeve of his white t-shirt and willed himself to focus. Remembering, how his mother this morning ushered him to finish the breakfast, made it even harder.

Where was Jack, for God's sake?

It was going to be a long day.

When Jack finally appeared, the sun was right above the tree, heating the top of his head with all the might, and from few scarce lessons from his dad last summer, Bobby knew it was somewhere around noon. He was almost furious.

New tennis shoes, a fresh shirt like he was just out of church will all the buttons tight in place, Jack looked like a boy scout himself.

Bobby barely contained the delighted yelp, full of relief, upon seeing him, but caught himself the last minute and ducked closer to the trunk, breathing in the smell of the warm wood. He was exhausted and starving but seeing his friend made him feel giddy with excitement, it felt as if electricity was buzzing under his skin. He froze, smiling.

Jack was stepping closer to the camp, which grew wary and quiet.

"Hey," Jack said in a gentle slow voice, looking sheepish. "Are you Mary Ann?".

A girl who had spent the last five minutes making sure the campfire was secure and bright, turned, looking at the boy with suspiciously raised shoulders.

Jack continued his approach.

"Who's asking?" she asked. The tone of her voice was full with distaste, and for a second Bobby felt ready to blank out, thinking that she had recognized Jack from the school football game last week when he kicked the ball right in the crowd of girls outs. Dozens of badges mumbled on her vest when she rose and crossed the arms across her chest.

Bobby held his breath.

Trepidation tickled him all over, messed up the steady rhythm of his heart. Bobby did not understand what made him so tense, his muscles tight and ready.

Some part of him was waiting for some crack in the air, like during the thunderstorms, when suddenly his friend was close to the full cart, but... 

And when Jack grabbed a bunch of boxes and bolted, yelling "Run', he slipped from the tree like a panther, barely thinking about his movements and not even noticing the scrapes and cuts the rough bark left at his arms, exposed forearms, tired palms. And the second his feet touched the ground, he ran.

And felt like he was flying. The loud echo of their shoes absorbed by the warm dry grass.


	4. /relearn excellent/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> space; spaceships; crews; husbands; time travel; angst

**/relearn excellent/**

Yesterday was endless and yet now it seemed so far away and bleak, like a fever dream that he tended to have during the long artificial night hours, flying through space. Sometimes it still disoriented Jim, looking out of the portholes and always see the same scenery, even if they had been traveling for a few months now. God was the space confusing.

It wasn't really anything to do aside from rereading the two hundred books they had brought with themselves or mindlessly wandering around. He was a geologist and unless they received a distress call from a planet, his skills and knowledge were not necessary. For a few weeks, he tried to teach Kelly something about the soil, but she quickly lost interest and chose to stick around the captain and her crew. She wanted to lead her own ship one day, she told him, he didn't hold a grudge.

Almost.

Dave marked another day in the calendar, which was just a sentimental habit they all brought along on the ride and put the marker down. The lights were still bright enough and he decided to read more. One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. His favorite.

That's when he heard an echo of the familiar song. "Young man, are you listening to me?..". The music though distant, slammed into him like an airwave, strong, drumming at his eardrums, making them vibrate and his hearing tense, trying to catch the sound.

Dave got up, his boots squicked on the polished floor. It's impossible, he thought, and even the mind tried to give him dozens of reasons not to, he exited his room and found himself in the long white hallway. Which was weird because the walls were white and the floor was covered with an old bluish carpet, and at the end of the hallway, Dave felt nauseous, was a window, and the sun painted sharp shadows on the carpet and they looked like the tree branches outside, that he used to try to reach when he was... Impossible.

The song continued to get louder. There was a blue clear sky, Dave noticed as he stepped closer, legs shaking. And even if it was impossible, with every step he took, when carpet kissed his now bare feet, he knew exactly what he was going to see.

Dave knew this day, he remembered it in a way that only seemed possible, he treasured it, hid it somewhere deep in his mind. He felt weak and somehow hopeful as he rounded the corner and the living room was in front of him.

Sunlight kissed the walls reflected on the ceiling from the glass table, and music bloomed and shook the windowsill and the giant chandelier. There they were in the middle of the room, laughing, dancing, him and his husband. Their hands connected, holding tight, and their happiness was louder than the music.

Dave felt sick and terrified as he slid down the wall, squeezing his eyes shut, heart hammering, sweat breaking out. It was on the twenty-first of September. A treasured dream, which he wished to be a memory. Twenty-first of September.

There days after his spaceship had left the earth.


	5. /lemon hunting/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lemons; adventure; traveling; fields; red hair; summer.

**/lemon hunting/**

It is pure magic, the way the air smells of warm wild grass which licks her ankles and reaches to the back of her knees. Sun beams at her back, straightens her spine, makes the muscles ache with tension of a sweet chase of this hot summer morning.

A busy road left behind among quiet sleepy country homes, safely tucked away in between tall strong trees, old and cranky. She keeps at it without stopping ti doublethink or doubt, does not even allow herself a thought of turning back. It seems like the biggest mission of her life. She laughs at the bubbly warm feeling making everything look brighter, making her feel invisible and free. And she stumbles a tad, warm soil sneaking into her shoes, rattles at her toes. Ah, she should have remembered the socks, but it is way too hot for such a torture. The sweat rolls down her forehead, dampens the straight and stubborn curls of her red hair which bounce around with her every step. Just wait and see all the freckles she is going to get after today.

Huge miles get left behind, smiling, the fields talk to her with buzzing of a few bees, traveling from one bright flower to another and in the rustling of tall corn rows, and in the wind flops of the butterflies, chasing her and hurring away as she tries to touch them with her fingertips.

The summer blooms and breathes around, ripens the apple trees and dries up thr long grass blades, smells of sand and warm soil.

And when she does find them - the smell--the only persistent clue, biting into her nostrils, leaving a fresh aftertaste on the foot of her tongue and on the roof of her mouth. That bitterly sour and icy smell of the green leaves, surrounding ripe round golden bars, bright and proud on the strong wide branches. Warm lemons kiss her curious palms as she gathers them and securely hides in the bag. And the smell gets caught in the bright strands of her hair.

She smiles. Lemons.


	6. /glittery getaway/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> road; freedom; running away; cars; ocean; sand.

**/glittery gateway/**

I wanted to run, to leave the car right there at the side of a sandy empty road and join the waves kissing the shore, to let salty water ruin my jeans, leaving watery white lines in denim.

The sun was setting, so I already had been running late, wasting precious minutes to gaze on a warm vacant beach with the calmness of the ocean gently whispering in the distance. That summer was the best summer of all for that one reason, I was alone and free to do whatever I pleased. The freedom was unpredictable and unexpected. The endless possibility.

Nothing could stop me. Nothing was big enough to give me my usual anxiety about the future, about the past. I could've abandoned the car right there, even leaving my suitcase in the trunk with no regrets. It wasn't expensive or even full, because I hadn't really had time to pack it properly or to be sentimental for the risk of chickening out and staying.

I could've driven right to New York or Las Vegas or Los Angeles, but the big cities never really interested me with their noise and crowds and too expensive restaurants. After years of living a life that was so foreign to me, I longed only for understanding of myself.

The air was warm, nice and smelled of wet sand. I had lost the connection few dozens of miles back and the radio was shushing me with white noise, and I left it on, letting it lull me. And that was the moment when I actually understood where I had been going all along.

It struck me so suddenly, so abrubt, for a second I let go of the wheel, sure I was about to faint. But then the surprise left, dissappeared in realization so clear and beautiful. It felt like a first coherent thought in years of sluggish nonsense. And I found myself laughing, laughing so much, the tears were streaming down my face. I picked up the speed. Determined. Decided. 

Unstopable. 

To see my son for the first time.


	7. /austronaut hesitation/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sad; loss; falling; space; sisters; four am.

**/astronaut hesitation/**

The dull pain in the back of her skull woke her up so harshly, she sat up in her bed, her breathing shallow and too fast. Her heart was beating as if she had just finished her usual ten miles run. 

Emily sighed, the gaze slowly traveled finding the faint crack in between long brown curtains, protecting windows from persistent sun rays. But then, she noticed, it was still dark out. 

The trembling in her fingers. She clumsily grabbed for her glasses at the night stand, sleepily blinked at the clock. Four am. Wonderful. 

The pillows behind her promised a few more hours of peaceful sleep, and Emily sank back into the warmth of the sheets, cuddling up in heavy blankets. And yet she found herself restless. 

Sure, she thought, frowning in upset, when closing her eyes provided only blank dull darkness. Sometimes she struggled to fall asleep, her mind always caught up in endless calculations and exercises she had to perfect and report on. All the anxiety that came closer at the same pace as her departure day. 

Something was off. Keeping her muscles stiff and ready. 

Come on, she banged her hands on the mattress in irritation, come on. Just three more hours. I could really use it. 

And… nothing. 

Fine. Great. Wonderful. 

Emily got up, leaving behind the messy nest of blankets and pillows. The harsh lights of her kitchen blinded her and for a minute she just stood there with her eyes closed, listening to the kettle boil. 

Coffee burned the roof of her mouth. She lazily walked towards her living room, turned on the TV. 

It was some news channel, some emergency. 

The cup fell from her stiff fingers, burning her bare toes with scalding coffee. 

/

Her uniform, tightly sewn around the shoulders and hugging securely her wrists, was the only thing keeping her sane. It took her under an hour to get here, less than a few second to get dressed, grab all essentials and get in the car. She drove responsible, making sure to stay in her line and in the speed limit. 

But her mind was still there, in the flickering shadows of an empty living room, where a TV was left murmuring about how her team was about to crash. 

The common floor was filled with people rushing around as if the sun was up for hours, not just glazing the horizon. 

Emily felt numb, looking at them, at the giant monitors changing angles and data every fifteen seconds, the noise was empty background music she could not herd, didn't want to. 

Jake was the first one to notice her at the door, he stepped closer, his shoulders stiff as if it was the last thing he even wanted to do in his life.

"Captain" he said, and his eyes held that careful expression, his voice thoughtfully blank. 

She waved away his emotions impatiently. 

"Report. Now". The words didn't taste like anything. 

He sighed, for a second looking around, like he was expecting someone else to save him from this exchange. Emily almost felt angry.

"Something went wrong as the ship entered the atmosphere. We lost signal at two am. No response, it's not slowing down. She is falling in the Atlantic. Too fast. The capsule will not survive the heat or the impact" he barked out, looking at her shoulder and keeping his chin up.

It didn't shake her. Didn't even bring her back to reality. She felt as she was flowing. She knew, the second she saw that news report, she knew. 

"Thank you" she said and turned away faster than he could offer his condolences, she didn't need it. 

The giant screen in the center was flashing bright, displaying a tiny dot of heat coming closer to the Earth, becoming bigger. 

Someone came up behind her, stepped to stay at her side. 

"There is still hope" Someone said. She didn't recognize the voice. Didn't turn to see the face. 

The tiny dot was getting bigger with every passing moment. In five minutes they would have to change the camera. It would be glowing so bright in the night sky, some pedestrians would probably think it was a falling star. They would make a wish. 

Emily felt sick, her vision blurring. She stepped back, but couldn't tear her gaze away. There was no hope, the capsule's temperature was reaching four hundred degrees Celsius. If someone was to survive the heat, the impact on the landing would be fatal. 

Someone grabbed her shoulder, squeezing tight. It was Dauphin, her mascara was flowing down her cheeks with tears. Her lips were trembling but she could only sob. 

Emily looked at her for just a second longer, then returned her gaze to the screen. 

Where her sister was falling down, burning. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Week One, yeeeah! So happy to be here. Thanks for reading❤️


	8. /chisel candymaker/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drugs; illegal; dark; brutal; blood; guns.

**/chisel candymaker/**

It reeks. Oh, it reeks so sweet. Sukkar sniffs the air, lets it travel deep into his belly, somewhat settling that furious hunger of his. 

Not for long. 

His little chemists rush around in their protective gear; the thick smoke fills up a tight space around. Sukkar does not hide his pleased lazy smirk. Such babies. Always oh so careful. 

This relaxing euphoria envelops his entire body; and it might come from the smell, but he doesn't really mind the gulps of air he takes. To be frank, he is no better than all of those poor shaking bastards outside with wide crazy eyes, starving for more. Ah, he definitely is, and who's going to judge him? Maybe these scared children scattering around him, making way for him as he slowly walk towards the main lab. 

In the flashes of yellow bright hazard suits he is the happiest man alive. And also the wealthiest, but it comes with the job. So. 

"Joe" Sukkar yells, settling down on a dirty old couch in the corner of brightly lit tight space with perfectly polished floors. When no one even finches at his voice, he frowns, almost irritated. "Joe, you stupid bastard!". 

That gets him the attention. One of the neon suits rushes from the tables in front, leaving behind the bubbling boiling blue liquid. 

Sukkar watches as he stumbles closer, the plastic fogging up in front of his face from his rapid breathing, making th scared eyes blurry. 

Joe avoids his gaze, and Sukkar just lets him stay there, frozen on a spot. It's always so funny to watch them fidget, as if they are sure their death is always at the tip of his tongue. 

It kinda always is. 

"So,  _ Joe,  _ how everything is going?" he asks slowly. 

Joe only startles a bit. 

"Sir, everything is going according to plan. The first batch will be finished in three hours" Joe mumbles, his voice distant and distorted behind the mask. 

Sukkar curls his lip. "Take the damn thing off as you talk to me" he barks. 

Joe freezes, his face goes pale. 

"But, sir, the fumes…It's not…".

Sukkar only smirks wider, making sure to stay as motionless as possible. 

"You do it right now or I will do it myself". 

That gets Joe moving, scraping to rip the straps off. When he is finally out, his first breath sends him coughing. 

"Ah, there you go, boy. Welcome" Sukkar roars. "Now talk". 

/

The smell of money always drives him crazy. That tang it brings. The saltiness. The sound of it. It's not that hard for Sukkar to acquire it, to hold it, to count it. It's the opposite with the possibility to keep it. 

And the truth is, he will do anything. Whatever it takes. Whoever it takes. And anyone who does not know that coming to work for him is a poor moron, who will no longer ruin the lovely world with his presence. 

The gun is really not that heavy. Sukkar is not a reader himself, but sometime back he used to read about gangsters. And the weapons are always so heavy in words. Huh. 

The gun only feels natural, like all of his suits tend to feel like an outer layer of his skin. 

The smell of blood is almost pleasant too. 

Not really. 

"Dear boy, you would tremble so much. I never took you as a fighter. Who knew, huh?" Sukkar says. 

Joe does not speak, his lips are broker, his jaw is broken too. His own blood pooling around the chair, to which he isn't even tied down to, but he can't get up anymore. Won't. 

They made sure of it. 

His head is hanging low, blonde hair painted red. 

"But I gotta say, you are the worst cook" Sukkar continues, his voice the only sound in the tiny poorly lit room. Mike stiffens at the door, but doesn't move. 

And Sukkar might not be the biggest fan of blood, but how the bullets fly, he loves it. 


	9. /award abduction/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kidnapping; disneyland; funny; vans and basements.

**/abduction award/**

When Danny was little, eight years old to be precise, it had happened for the first time. 

And it's not like it was his fault too, snatching a kid was way easy to do, especially in a crowd like that. 

So as all ridiculous things in his life, that one happened when he was at the Disneyland with his dad and his older brother. They probably were just buying some popcorn, standing in a way too long line. Next minute he was in the van with a bunch of strangers. 

When they finally got them back, the whole SWAT team came to his rescue, crowding a tiny basement in a home in California. Danny was rather unimpressed sitting on a stinky mattress in a corner, which had funny colors all over it. Correction, Danny was ecstatic upon seeing the real SWAT team up close. 

Plus, he got to fly in the police helicopter back home, where everybody hugged him too tight and fed him all the candy he wanted for a week straight. 

Little Danny was not afraid. 

Big Danny was mostly pissed. Oh, and also really  **really ** pissed. 

He felt every bump in the road with his forehead tightly pressed to the door, a van shaking around him as they drove definitely out of speed limits. And the bag those idiots had thrown over his head reeked of dirty old laundry, so es, Danny was so pissed. He could barely wait to punch them. Each and every one. Until his good hand started to hurt. 

Yet, he didn't move, allowing them to believe he was still out after they had banged the back of his neck with a bat; stupid amateurs, they probably watched too many movies. 

Idiot. 

Danny made himself breathe through his mouth so the awful smell would stop making him gag and also fume with anger. He needed to free his hands which were tied behind his back. When he tried to pull them apart, the rope had burnt his wrists like a blow torch, but it was no impossible to get out off. Yet, he could risk being seen, so he just settled for slowly curling and uncurling his fists to help with numbness. 

Oh, just wait till his brother gets the wind if it, he smirked to himself. John always treated these  _ inconveniences  _ as some kind of national emergency, sending every police officer to his rescue, and Danny's favourite part was to greet them at the door and show all the culprits neatly knocked out in the living room. 

Because, yes, for some reason they all tended to drag him in their awful stinky houses under the gaze of every neighbor. 

Jesus, sometimes he felt incompetent being abducted by people so stupid. It was like a never ending insult. 

He was better than that, come one, he definitely deserved better. 

Ah, how eager he was for a challenge. Was it too much to ask? 

The van came to a stop, and he finally had an opportunity to listen to their voices. 

"Are you sure this place is right?" Someone whispered in the front. 

He heard the jiggling of the car keys, the silence of the engine cooling down. 

"Yes, Mark. Would you please stop asking stupid questions" Another voice barked back, lower and threatening. 

Danny heard how Mark mumbled something to himself, but then the doors opened, then shut back and the voices were gone. 

Danny knew better than to assume he was alone. A few seconds later the door slid open next to him and he allowed himself to go limp. 

"Hey" Mark said, uncertain. Then, after a second his voice got panicked. "James, is he alive? Did you hit him too hard?". 

Oh, dear  _ James _ , you were going to get a lovely payback, rest assured, Danny thought to himself. 

"Shut up, Mark. He is fine, just help me get him out". 

They were not particularly careful, grabbing under his shins and his wrists, which actually was the worst position ever to carry someone. 

When they finally threw him at something almost soft on the floor, Danny felt his blood boil. 

They left him alone, he counted their steps until they disappeared somewhere high up on the stairs, the poor old wood creaking in pain.

Great, another damn basement. He sweared, if he'd get another lung infection from all the mold, he was going to murder them right in their cellblocks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I loved this one so much, and it's a pity I didn't have enough time to tend to it properly.  
I do promise through to come back to it and treat it with love haha  
I love Danny💕🍀


	10. /floral anxiety/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> flowers; hospital; nurse; slow.

**/floral anxiety/**

And as a tiny rose blossoms on her cheek, Flos sleeps. 

/

She finds it later in the kitchen; a hot cup of coffee warms her hands. Her gentle fingers are littered with bright green leaves. 

There is another rose, already grown in her hair. She softly plucks it out and settles it into a vase. 

/

A tiny white almond flower hides behind her left ear, Flos catches it as it goes flying to the floor. She takes it with her. It smells like an early lovely summer; tucks it into a pocket on her uniform. 

The hospital sleeps. 

/

Jenny looks at her, while she check her IV and leaves her signature in the papers. Flos knows she didn't sleep at all, couldn't because of the nausea. It always is like that after the chemo. 

"Your hands smell funny" Jenny whispers to her. 

Flos smiles. "I've got some thuja in my sleeves. Do you want a piece?". 

Jenny nods eagerly. 

/

At lunch, there is a pink orchid, curling around her neck. Flos gently caresses the fragile petals as the garden murmurs around her; the weather promises a thunderstorm. 

/

David picks out a violet bellflower, nestled in her elbow and smiles at it. He made the whole dinner all by himself; the living room smells like a restaurant. 

Flos smiles at him. 

"Everything is going to be okay" he tells her. 

She only hugs him tighter. 

She knows. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeey, 10 days!!!! Wooowowowo


	11. /industry crimson/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> future; dystopia; rebels; famine.

**/industry crimson/**

"The Machine To Save The World" yelled the bright red posters from every corner on a tiny tight street. Arist felt sick of them; the glue had dried up on his fingers like another layer of skin. 

It was one of those days that lately had been happening more and more. The Agency canceled the food delivery to the fathers neighborhoods. The Machine was having some adjustment problems, they said on the morning broadcast, The Machine was not designed to provide for so many people, for the grown population. 

Please, stay calm, they said. Arist crumbled another poster in his hand. It left a red streak of fresh paint across his palm. 

The door resisted at first but then gave, and he stumbled inside a complete darkness of an abandoned house. It smelled like mold and old wood. 

Arist found the fireplace by sheer force of memory and stuffed it full with leftover posters from his bag. The paint was red but burnt bright yellow. There was a movement behind him, and Arist stayed motionless. 

He didn't want to show his face. 

A hand grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. 

"Arist, do not lose hope. The Resistance is almost at full power" Bissau said in that tender tone of his. Arist only scoffed, shaking his head. 

When he turned to face him, Bissau was looking at him with tired sad eyes, the fire flickered in the pupils. There was a dark bruise at his cheekbone, bright and violently violet. 

"What happened?" Arist demanded. 

Bissau waved his concern away. 

"Nothing special. A usual misunderstanding with a protestor from mother district" he told him. 

The anger that enveloped him was not unexpected. 

"It can't go on like this anymore". 

Bissau nodded, gently taking his face in between his warm calloused palms. 

"It won't, The Resistance is coming". 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, it's so short because I need to learn better time management. I will:)  
Eleventh day, woopwooo


	12. /justice allowable/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> poem; short.

**/justice allowable/**

The court stays silent. The court goes on. The court is full of it. 

The doors are closed. The windows broken. Please, do repair the goal

Of being honest. 

No more noise or you'll be executed. Or rather excused off the premises. 

With all your wrongdoings up your sleeve. 

Do not test her patience, because the lady with the scales

Doesn't blink. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I'm sorry, but I had just finished my 11 hour shift at my job, so the miracle of me even writing anything is here. Yes, I have the same shifts for three more days, but then I'm gonna come back to my senses in a way:) lots of love. Thanks for reading


	13. /iron stanger/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bus; autumn; falling in love; short.

**/iron stranger/**

I am in love. He has those big bright eyes, almost ashen. My breath catches in my throat. The eyes are focused on me. 

I am in love. The road slowly passes by the windows; the bus is packed. And I feel light as if I could float to the ceiling and stay there, content. I'm content in general because I am in love. 

It's nice. It's autumn, so the frost clings at my fingers. I shake it off. It's no bother, and no time for it because I am in love. 

The time flies, I catch it minute by minute. The helpless happiness settles in my ribcage. My lips hurt from smiling so hard but it's okay because I am in love. 

He looks at me, there across at the seat near the door, and the movement of the bus has him flowing in this special lovely rhythm. He smiles too, I feel overwhelmed by how much I feel in the speck of a second. 

I am in love. 

Even when he gets off at the next stop. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second story of my series called 'I just finished the 11 hour shift at my job', hope you enjoy.  
I would have writer more but I'm literally blacking out so. Lots of love.


	14. /absolution dust/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> year; winter; flames.

**/absolution dust/**

The air smells like winter, crisp enough to bite at the tip of his nose. Joseph chuckles to himself. 

Another year gone. Done and over with. Left behind. So easy. Who would have thought. 

He still feels the lingering heat of the flames, the particles of ash stuck to the faux fur on the hood of his jacket. Another year, left behind with some streaks of white in his heart. A good year. 

It had burst into flames so quickly he didn't even see it coming. 

Another year burnt away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turn out working 11 hours shift for 4 days strait can cause an emotional breakdown in the middle of the bus on your way to work. Good to know. My brain is already asleep. That's all I've managed. Love


	15. /easy means/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> poem; simplistic.

**/easy means/**

uncomplicated;

strong and beautiful

in a way no one had ever possessed before

effortless twist of the lips

simple smile

to crumble worlds

under a gentle palm

of a godlike creature

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so day four(?) of my helish job. Don't worry I'm quitting and I also have a day off tomorrow so that's good news  
Love, Rina


	16. /atmosphere alarm/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> poetry; global warming; iceberg; ode.

**/atmosphere alarm/**

Icebergs are dying

Growling like an old beast

They won't go down easily

But they will fall

To the knees for the whales and floods

And somewhat peace

Icebergs dying

And they don't want to bring us down with them

But they will

In an unforgettable embrace

They will give us a kiss

To never come back again

Kids will wake up

And will never know

There were piece of ice and snow

Floating in the ocean

Bigger than their home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I guess it's a collection of poems now. Well would you look at that.  
Have a good life.   
Love, Rina


	17. /blind water/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> poem; nature; rivers.

**/blind water/**

the mountain river

whispers of distant lands

and forgotten years 

it drinks like it always has been

waking up the forests in the morning

greeting bears

the silent gentle river

loves the snowy hills

and giant 

who fell asleep millions days ago

and will never wake up again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two more days of the shitty job AND I'M FREE. I've never been more happy. I love you, thank you for sticking:)  
Rina


	18. /insect casket/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dying; birds; quiet; moment; ancient times; blood; wounds.

**/insect casket/**

There is a low growl stuck at the back of his throat. It almost hurts to press it back down, to swallow it with the bitter taste of his own blood. 

Demur gags. 

The tribe has left him as it is an honor, to die under the sun in the open field, and he feels the dawn with his over sensitive skin, overwhelmed by the pressure of heat. His wounds will be soothed by the wind. He knows it. 

There is an arrow still deep in between his ribs, he can feel the rough wood every time he inhales. It doesn't feel like pain. Not anymore. 

The field around him gets to live, gets to wake up to another crisp and fresh morning, gets to see deer running to the woods. And Demur only gets to listen how the sound of birds singing gets louder than the echo of his own heartbeat. 

It calms him down, as a quiet whisper of a lullaby. His eyelids are so heavy. It doesn't feel like dying, they used to tell him, but it does. 

Because he knows. 

Demur doesn't know what he expected, but there are no memories flashing past his eyes, his mind is running, still clinging to the possibility of surviving. It keeps on fighting, looking for ways to escape death just this time. It tells him, just move, just move a tiny bit. You can do it. 

He can't. Can't even smile but he wants to. The birds fly past him between his lazy blinking eyes. 

The end just feels like the end. And he almost wishes to share it with someone who is yet to experience it, but it would be so cruel, to ruin a perfect mirage, the living cling so tight to. 

When his heart starts skipping every second beat, it doesn't hurt him either. Only feels as if he is leaving his body behind. As if he is floating, the same way the water holds his weight. 

Ah, it would be the only thing to miss. Their summer morning swim with his brothers.the way they would wake up the whole forest with their laughter and splashing, and how they would wrestle each other trying to catch the fish with their bare hands. 

Demur lets himself to close his eyes. 


End file.
